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Kinith, Monster Hunter of Dale
Those First Days a Man Kinith was born a bastard son to a certain hero. Quickly moved away by his mother for fear of his father’s wrath, his birth remained a secret from his sire and not even he knows any more than his foster parents. Rangers of the North were given the baby by cloaked travelers and he grew in one of the only Ranger camps till he was old enough to survive alone when he set of as a Ranger himself. His reason for leaving was more than merely growing up, but rather that he could not fit in with the brood of sulking men. His love for the bow and hunt took him for many years of travel in the Lone Lands, hunting both game and orc alike. Eventually the lines blurred and he still sees orcs as but bulls standing on two legs. After decades of life as a Ranger, he found a small settlement of men and women and decided to set up a more permanent residence. There he squatted for a year and half building a shack and then small home with modest cobble floors and wooden walls. A simple house for a simple man of simple pleasure, he used it to store his bounty and game, to cook such meats and tan the hides, to rest his head, and later to farm small crop and fruits for eatings. He took on missions from local villagers to slay Gunblade orcs and gather meats and berries, gathering small coin over his stay. Eventually though, he learned of why these villages were so scarce. Forgetting after a time to hide his tracks and preserve his presence, Hillsmen tracked him to the village and ambushed him in the farms. Out of nowhere he felt a massive jolt in his back as a spear was thrust forward into him, driving him down to the floor. The barbarians looted him and his home for all they could and left him to die in the field. Local children found him lying there are the village healer nursed him back to health, but now he had a paranoia about ambush. Soon after this the village was attacked and the men slaughtered by a single traveler, Kinith hid paralyzed by fear as his neighbors stood to be killed by a man he had met in the woods only hours before and traded with a smile. Now afraid to live in a small village and also being ostracized from the Rangers for settling down, he turned to his one friend for help. Gale, Man of Dale and soon-to-be-prince gave him shelter in the land of Dale, a place to hunt and a place to call home. Going to Dale felt almost nostalgic, perhaps it was the trees and smell of fresh game but something was homely about the land. He found a hill off the road and built upon the top where trees covered and orcs rarely tread. Having taken nothing but sword, pick, axe, and small foods he set to work chopping trees for his homestead. A single massive oak made up the eight key pillars and smaller trees around used for the walls. Large branches and sticks were twined together to form windows to allow light in, and the roof was a long standing project that slanted towards the attic with window facing the morning sun. The basement was for storage, fermenting, tanning, and meat cooking, always with the smell of burning animal he had come to love. Supplied with wood and stone from local lords, his homestead took only a month and half to build before he could move his belongings from his previous shack. He leaves his old home erect, with food in chests and supplies for weary travellers to make use of as he had done. Being a Ranger, Kinith learned of the hunt, but when he came to Dale he learned that his was a different kind of hunt. Men of Dale would take powerful dwarven hammers and embroidered swords and suits of gilded armor on the hunt. Still wanting to stay true to his old life, he still hunts in Ranger’s gear with hood drawn, but now uses swords, spears, and all manner of weapons scavenged from the bodies of enemies. Warglaives of Mordor, Orcish spears, and iron daggers make up his arsenal alongside Dalish weaponry. His Ranger’s Bow still finds much use but as arrows have been harder to come by only when the hunt is truly monstrous. A Monster Hunter’s Quest After amassing hundreds of flank and pork, chicken and deer, he grew somewhat bored of the stale hunting the Shire and Trollshaw gave. So upon rumor of rare game he headed as far south as Harad, where he met with a women who guided him in ways of their hunt. Rhinos fiercer than Wargs, Lions with meat rarer than Stag, Vicious crocodiles with gaping jaws large enough to swallow bulls whole. He spent months away hunting this new game, in an ecstasy of brilliant new game time passed without his knowledge. It was in this land that he met with a peculiar fellow that opened his eyes to another world in our own. Gandalf the White Wizard, a man of legend and myth, was smoking a pipe below a giant tree upon the great plains of Harad. Seeing this man, Kinith stuck up conversation with all he knew of the land, hunting. Interested by the young man’s tales of the “fiercest beasts in the lands being less than he imagined” The wizard decided to enlighten him with journey over tale. In the blink of an eye they were whisked back North to the Barrow Downs, a dead land of ancient tomb and eerie sounds. Tasked with finding a Barrow Dagger within a tomb, Kinith took this quest for he feared no beast, especially not bulls or wargs of the north. Several steps later he questioned his decision as moans and whiles echoed across the endless expanse of plains. Deciding to finish quickly, he scanned tomb after tomb to no avail. After climbing a tower for better view, he saw it. A green specter with glowing aura and black cloak. From this point he took out his Bow and fired as many arrows as he could into it, but the beast did not fall. Climbing down the tower, fear started grabbing at his heart but continuing forward was his only way out. Charging the beast, his vision distorted and with every step closer it seemed to move farther away. Confused and grasping at reality, he threw his spear, only to see it almost immediately fly the massive distance to the beast in but a second. Now with no grasp of distance he swung wildly till the found the beast, which was now on his with its own weapon. Without being able to dodge or move around effectively, he took hit after hit exchanging blows with the monster. Till his attacks along with the arrows sprouted in the monster finished it, forcing it to flee. His vision returning to normal, his immediate thought was to finish his quest, but now he was driven by something beyond fear, excitement. The unknown should be feared, the known should be prepared for. Such an ideal is his way of life, now knowing that the beasts were best taken at a distance, and being without arrows, he thought best to finish before he encountered another. After his 7th tomb finally gave dagger, he left only to be face to face with another wraith. This one engaged him directly and within seconds they were engaged. Retreating back into the dark tomb he fought back the beast as his escape space slowly dwindled. Just as his back was to the wall, he leaped forward and pushed it back with his spear, then dashed to the right and ducked under a swing. Now with the beast cornered he battered it against the wall with his sword, himself taking hit after hit to his weakening armor till finally the monster fled away into the air, dropping another barrow dagger. Meeting with Gandolf in the plains after with a new vigor, he handed over the dagger to Gandolf’s surprise. Likely doubtful a simple hunter would actually fulfill such a dangerous task, he gave Kinith a new quest. A great monster hunter quest that required him to travel all over the lands to slay fantastic beasts and encounter the strongest and most feared creatures. Six monsters were given to him in riddle to hunt and claim trophy. One were the Barrow Wraiths and were finished but the 5 others were mysteries Kinith did not know of. He asked academics, adventurers, traders, and barmen till he learned of each. The first such beast on his quest was told to live in the Old Woods. Gale of Dale did lead him there, and give him a battleaxe with a warning that swords and bows did no harm. He spent the day walking through the woods but saw no beast, and few animals for game. He reached a large cliff base and turned around to return the way he came, only to immediately be charged by a hulking mass. With brown body and a green topped head it appeared as if a tree had uprooted and fell on him, but it did stay upright and it did assault him with branches and thorn. Swinging his sword to little avail, he retreated with his back to the wall and fired arrow after arrow but they simply implanted in the wood not slowing the beast. Remembering the warning from Gale he drew the axe and swung at the beast, with a mighty groan the wood splintered and shuttered backwards. With the few feet of space he dashed forward into the beast, hacking at it till the trunk fell motionless at his feet. Collecting the wood and branches as trophy, he stayed in those woods hours more hunting the creatures and learning how to tell them apart from surrounding trees, how the light shone on them differently, how their bark was ever so light, and how their leaves blew without wind. Exiting the forest with his trophies, Kinith set off to his next hunt. The next one was different from the rest, and asked him not to slay the beast but rather “live to tell the tale.” To get there first He had to cross Emyn Muil ‘Amon Lhaw’ mountain, a craggy soilless expanse of rocks and ore aplenty. From there he went south till crossing a ravine left him in the Dead Marshes. A putrid smell of moss and algae rose from the waters as green fog rolled in across the expanse. Knowing that whatever it was that came forth would waste no time with him, Kinith drank the Orc Draught he claimed as trophy from a previous fight and prepared to run. He threw a pebble into the waters as he had been told, only to wait everlasting moments of silence that stretched from the Mistakes to Harad. Such silence was shattered by a wail like the screams of the Barrow Downs, only far more terrifying as they were but one, and yet all the more deadly. Looking forward he did see it, pale as snow with a green glow in the swamplight. It flew feet above the ground slowly making it’s way across the bog directly towards him. Suddenly he remembered his quest, to see and to live, and in that moment he dragged out every ounce of detail from the creature; It’s size, shape, color, eyes. The eyes. They stood out the most and he was drawn to them continually as he spent less than a second with view of the creature. Those pale eyes, soulless and devoid and yet so purposeful, such eyes only to see death. Scrambling backwards he turned to run, only to be face to face with a Mordor Orc. What one was doing so far north he did not know, but without option he charged past it. Turning around quickly to catch a glimpse of his assailants, he instead saw the Orc charging the misty monster. They must not have known just what it was and how fearful the creature made mortal men, for it ran forward without hesitation sword drawn. Bless his soul as it may rest in torment. Using this as a chance to escape, he crossed the ravine again back to those craggy rocks, but did not stop there he sprinted across boulder and through cracks and finally when his legs could take him no further he lay collapsed, looking behind only to see those bogs, no Orc, no wraith, only those cursed bogs. A tale he did have to tell, of the Marsh Wraith. Following this terrifying experience, Kinith took some time to himself to collect and hunt and gather materials for his next journey before setting off. Half trolls were the clear target of his next hunt, however they lived far away from any others. His Haradrim friend helped him reach the eastern marshes of Harad, with profuse warning not to cross them, as no Haradrim would be mad enough to do so. The swamps were said to be home to many crocodile, and with ample water they could rapidly reach you within seconds of sight. Having faced crocodile before, these rumors caused him no concern and they were waved off with a hand, for what is a crocodile to a wraith? Within minutes he had been treed by half a dozen of the creatures snapping only feet away. He crossed mostly by jumping trees, however many times he did have to sprint across the ground over a barren expanse or worse, cross open water with crocodiles on his tail. After he made it past the first few miles, there were less crocodiles so progress was much faster, however he remained cautious. Finally he reached the southern gulf of the marsh and took one of several boats he had prepared material for, fashioning his craft he set off along the coastline of the marsh in deep waters. For days he traveled those coasts with little to eat for once he hit open water there would be no food and he had to make use of small berry bushes and sugar canes on the coastline. His crafts wrecked many times upon schools of fish and squid, constantly having to fashion new ones quickly on land before the crocodiles could reach him. Finally after reaching the tip of the peninsula, he made small camp with a fenced border around the perimeter, and fished for hours with the daylight fading. When night approached, he took some rest on top a tree one final time on land and come day, he cooked those fish and burned the fences to do so. Gathering up a host of wood and reed for the boats needed to cross the great expanse of sea, he set off across. Hours passed, morning, afternoon, there was little difference as he had but some cover in shade by wood and reed. He fished come nights for food when he could, and ate his fruits while they were ripe, but kept much of the juices as they lasted far longer and he did not want to risk sea-madness from lack thereof. Days turned to weeks as he thought of many things, his life, his choices, his regrets, and his hunt. All thoughts turned to these but all again back to the hunt. He had armor and weapons aplenty for not many had fought these beasts before. He knew that they were said to have troll blood, and so he took no precautions packing crossbows, spears, halberds, and even fire starters. Finally after what seemed like an eternity on boat, he spotted land. Thanking the stars for their guidance, he soon learned of why these lands were never traveled. Mountainous pillars of cold stone and pits of cooling lava replaces both tree and soil. Ore was barely visible in these rocks and the ground was littered in bone and death. Unafraid now however after so long of thinking, he stepped upon those shores, regained his land legs, and set forth sword in hand. The very first of them that charged him was atop warg and fully armoured, reaching for his pike, he impaled the rider atop his mount and quickly dispatched the warg with a warhammer, Claiming little trophy for his long journey, he set off slaughtering dozens of the creatures, with bow he weakened the crowd before going in himself to finish it. After a sufficient amount of bones were gathered, and after exploring for anything of value, of which there was nothing, he ended his hunt with a triumphant cry atop the tallest peak, before using his warp stone, which he rarely used for it made the hunt too easy, to travel home. The next beast listed mentioned of arachnids, and no matter who he asked there seemed to be one solid conclusion, Mirkwood Spiders. Foul, venomous crawlers of varying size, some small and lithe as a rabbit, others large as man, and some rumored to be even beyond that. He found two men both bored and in look of adventure, and together they traveled to the home of Mirkwood monsters. The infamous rogue and profiteering pirate combined with Kinith’s hunting experience combined tore through those woods like a hurricane, slaughtering spiders faster than their loot could be collected. After only a short walk in they had already collected such a sum of trophies there was no real need for further travel. Kinith himself took some time alone to hunt the spiders for learning their habits, while saying goodbye to the rogue. He made a friend in the pirate, who promised to help him with his next hunt. Soon afterwards and with little wear on his gear from the spider incursion, he did set off with the pirate to the northern land spoken of in the riddle. On their way together, they spoke of what beast could be the prey, until they came to the conclusion of Trolls. For they lived aplenty there and were powerful beings indeed with arms to lift boulders and uproot trees. Reaching far north into their lands, the pirate did leave him with a goodbye and warning to finish before nightfall. Now alone again, Kinith wasted no time with rushing the forest and exploring for prey. He found little game but some in deer, until there were a pack of wolves and he did use bones of his fallen enemies to attract one to his side, who still lives in his home as a guard against intruders eating well off of hunted game. It was near there that he did see on the edge of the forest, a hulking troll under a tree. Sunlight brought it stoning, and so it hid, trapped in a clearing under a single tree. Not wanting to waste this golden opportunity, he did sit down his new dog before setting upon the beast. Testing it was a few arrows, he found that it still could not leave the safety of the tree. Such a hunt was too easy, but there is no shame in a job finished, and he did dispatch the beast with his sword after filling it with arrows. With his dog, he did set off home. It was not for months after this all that he did speak to Gandalf again, the wizard seemed surprised that he had indeed fulfilled his quest, and did bestow upon him the title, “Monster Hunter of Dale.” As well as a sword and armour designed by an old group of “monster hunters.” Unknowingly, Kinith, a humble hunter, had walked into a life of beast slaying that went back ages in old cults and sects. A mostly unknown people they were, history forgets those who seek not it’s recognition, and much as he was before as a Ranger, he was set forth to a hidden life of slaying. However not so, as he had forsaken the lonely life of a Ranger, he forsook the traditional life of a Monster Hunter, choosing to bestow his title with pride. Let it be known who he is, let his enemies quake in fear of his hunt, and let him reap the benefits of each. A Simple Life Now living stability in his hunting home near the Dalish capital, Kinith could sell his hunted meats and furs there to support his simple life. It was on the market streets that he met with a woman named Reya, she was short, but not as stout as a dwarf, with long red hair and breath that stank of drink. She more or less clung around him for food and money for drink. Soon after she invited another beggar to join him, a spry squirly fellow named Elfrod who had some kind of wand. They made small bases behind his own near the city, but never finished them. While living near the city had it’s perks, there was an undeniable allure to the idea of making a town of their own. And so the group set forth to found their own township, with Kinith as its mayor, lord, or what have you. Having found a good place to construct, Kinith set about making his own house to mark the settlement. He raised the oak beams in a frame and then set the cobble foundation, after that was finished he had help raising the walls and tiling the roof. With his own house built, he invited Reya and Elfrod, who made their own nearby. Reya made a hobbit-like hole in a hill, believing cold, damp places made for better drink, with a fountain of Valar water blessed by Gandolf himself. Elfrod spent many months constructing a large tavern and inn near the road for travelers, not that many would be coming from Mirkwood. However the largest part of the village was the farm, which grew from a few personal plots, to enough to feed an army hundreds strong. Growing crops of all kinds in front, with even exotic beans and cactus from natives of the southern continent. A Kine of Araw pen he had in honor of Orome and his herd provided decent meat, leather, and their horns were highly praised. However he didn’t have to fear people harassing his herd, as the beasts were amply powerful to fend off lesser threats. The real meaning of his farm came in the form of his wheat field, which covered an area of 6 square kilometers. So large he alone could not set about reseeding it after harvest, and needed the help of Reya and Elfrod, even with the three of them working, by the end of it many crops at the beginning of their planting had already become harvestable. He had a windmill constructed to store and work the large quantities of grain, but even still it was a full day’s work to just maintain the farm. Unable to do much besides tend this farm, he soon hired workers, giving work to any in search of food in exchange for planting. He helped his more established workers establish some housing and they now do most of the tending in exchange for a cut of what they harvest. Leaving Kinith time to hunt and enjoy his own life while gaining profit from his investments. At some point Reya managed to accidently seduce the Prince of Harad, enough so he forfited his claim to the throne to join her in the village. He had no need to work as there were still coffers of money he kept hold of, and his wealth helped make the docks as well as work out deals with merchants to trade off the excess crop. Ace was a kind man, albeit persistent to no end, and somewhat paranoid of assassination. However the fighting force he brought to the town was much needed and his support helped grow the village. Until Ace had come, Kinith almost solely protected the town from the various invasions of Mirkwood and occasionally Mordor regiments. As Reya and Elfrod were less adept at combat he took the role and did well enough against the hordes to keep the town safe. He would even go so far as to make deals with several of the more intelligent and high ranking orcs that, in exchange for some foodstuffs, they and their troops wouldn’t attack the village. With Ace in the village, there was a large armory of weapons he brought and armored both Reya and himself with. He helped Kinith fight off invasions and did so without him when necessary. However now Kinith was able to take more time off of the town and spend it hunting as he pleased. It was a simple time, but simple was perfectly fine. Night of the Ungoliant Kinith took Bard II, Prince of Dale, into the Mirkwood on hunt. Fully prepared to protect him if need be, it was intended to more bonding that real hunting. However when they entered a tower dungeon, a loud moan and deafening wave of scuttling was heard outside. In a moment's reaction Kinith created a bunker just in time for the ocean of spiders to cascade from the ceiling. Backing up into a cave after the bunker fell, they realized the cave led outside, and looking out there were hundreds of spiders on the walls of the tower, They blockaded the entrance in time before too many attacked, but seconds later and it would have ended very differently. Bard had asked others to join him on the journey before they began, and by the time they arrived it was a mission just to get them down into the bunker alive. However Kinith had to use his stored food to help the new members. In desperation he began a prayer to Orome, Valar of Hunting, and asked for help so he may continue his hunt in strength. Another looked on in humor as a strange hooded man on his knees whispered to the air. Soon after, Kinith found some apples in his pouch, a couple being golden yellow, shining with a glow that illuminated the cave. Seeing this the same man who had mocked him minutes ago also prayed for food, but as he was rude, unknowing, and foremost not a hunter, misfortune, and soon after lightning, struck him. Kinith had a golden apple, and with a new found strength and health he led the charge, they pushed out of the cave into the bunker, then the dungeon, and finally rushed the basement, blocking off the stairwell as he slayed the waves of falling spiders. With ample space they began to kill spiders through small holes, trying only to survive till morning. As the first floor was so covered in webs it would be nigh impossible to cross under attack. Kinith managed to dig himself a way out, sealing it behind him lightly so others could follow but the way in couldn’t be made out by the simple spiders. As he escaped the tower, there was a bellowing roar as an Olag saw him and charged. Running back behind the trees and away from the spiders, he slew the monster after a hard fought battle. Then began firing arrows at the spiders on the walls. Slowly he dwindled their numbers from outside, moving around the sides of the tower at a long range to avoid attention. Orcs had joined the siege and moved on him, but they posed no threat other than the occasional Olag he had to back off to dispatch. He continued this till morning, when with the rising sun came a battalion of wood elves. He joined them in slaying the remaining Olags and spiders, together with his party members they climbed the tower stairwell to the top and claimed their prize, Dawn Breaker, a wood elven sword to slay the spiders of Mirkwood. His own personal trophy came in the form of the massive amount of string and spider eyes he gathered for personal use later. However he did from a bond with the other members, and did claim a powerful sword in the process. Devil’s Pride While he was hunting in Trollshaw, Kinith came upon another hunter’s campsite. There were a half dozen tents set up in circle of a fire pit, and tanning racks had their day’s game. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the tents were torn to shreds, bodies mutilated by deep claw marks, and the fire smoke had yet to die. Carefully he approached wary of danger, however it seemed that the assailant had left and all that remained was the tragedy. Turning to leave, unwilling to loot such a grisly scene, he heard a voice. A faint whisper almost from below one of the collapsed tents. Rushing over to help, as he lifted the flap his heart sank. The man’s leg was missing and there seemed to be more blood around him than inside. Whispering a final time, Kinith leaned down to hear his words. “White… Devil…” was all the man could muster before collapsing. Any hunter knows the legend of the White Devil, a warg many times the size of a normal one. With the rare pure white fur only found in one of a thousand of the beasts. It stalked the land in random locations, however it could always be found. Those who hunted it often turned to prey themselves, just as this party had most likely. For the beast had more to it than simply a valuable fur. Legend has it that it guarded a tomb of it’s master, an epic hunter whose weapon alone could feed a small village. Wanting of such a treasure, Kinith decided he would avenge those around him and hunt down the beast. Almost the moment he decided this, a distant howl seemed to challenge him. Months passed, for this was a dangerous and wild hunt. He gathered what he could from rumors to prepare. Some from Dale said silver was potent against powerful wolves, so he tipped his crossbow and had a sword edged in it. He brought with him packs of Crams for food on the hunt, quivers of arrows and bolts, and his small arsenal of weaponry. After so many months of searching, he found a lead almost too good to be true. A farmer reported his sheep missing and having seen a giant white monster in his fields. Knowing the beast was baiting him but with no other choice, Kinith made haste to the fields only to see a freshly fallen snow littering the ground. Tracks a baby could follow lead into the hills, and he haphazardly followed them. As he walked, he listened closely with crossbow at the ready. Every step he felt a gaze on him and every movement seemed an opportunity to be struck at. Miles into his walk, he was looking over the hill only to hear a smash in the ground behind him. Not wasting time to turn he aimed his crossbow over the shoulder and fired at the source, causing a cry of startling pain in his assailant. Rolling forward down the hill, he reloaded the crossbow as he slid across the snow and down to the icy frozen lake below. Now looking behind, he saw the creature for the first time, bolt implanted in it’s shoulder but charging down the hill all the same. Having reloaded, he fired while sliding backwards, implanting this one in the monster’s other shoulder. Barely letting out a cry it continued to chase him till they reached the bottom of the hill. With only meters between them, he drew arrow after arrow while stepping back, able to pierce the beast with three before it was upon him. Taking a spear he charged forward, shoving the beast backwards enough to launch the spear into its gut. Now with an open wound, it moved slower not to let the entrails fall, but still swung hard as a troll. Kinith wore light ranger’s armor for the express purpose of evasion. As he knew taking a single hit would be devastating. Dodging under the beast, he took a dagger and ripped up the beast’s chest, opening the previous wound from the spear. Now limping and soon to die, the beast ceased attacking and looked at his killer. With what might have been a nod, he turned and stumbled away. Fallowing behind the beast, Kinith let it make it’s way to the hidden tomb behind a patch of rocks. Inside the cave was a tombstone with a magnificent orcish pike lodged into the soil. The Devil lay besides the grave of his master and let out one last howl before collapsing. Kinith removed the pike and returned to his home, taking it to his worktable to examine it. Seemingly to have a violet shine throughout the entire body, the hilt was well crafted dark mallorn wood that had yet to bend or even warp despite the times. The shaft had several sharp extensions besides the primary blade, forged of an ebony orcish steel. The main spiked tip was sharp as a dagger yet as thick as a hammer and refused to detach from the hilt despite some attempts to change the shaft. Deciding to keep the whole body, he set about testing it, however no matter what bar he presented it with, it cut them all. What’s more, during his testing he found that the metals were even slightly melted after being cut. So he took a slab of meat and cut it through only to see it set ablaze in his hands. Fire starting weapons were rare and it was a powerful magic. Knowing this he decided later to take it hunting for more expansive testing, but for the moment returned to his sharpness testing. Finally he remembered a small mithril nugget he recovered from an orcish cache in Angmar. Carefully he ran the blade against the nugget of rare metal, and at the end he saw that it did in fact even slice mithril! Such a sharp blade was of spectacular quality, but could not explain its ability to cut through mithril. After the cut, the area under the blade seemed to have a different color than the rest of the metal. He ran it under water and washed it thoroughly, then sanded it and washed it again, finally smoothing it out. Now he could see that it was edged with a finer color, an azure gleam alongside the malicious metal. It had been edged with mithril! Only the forward blade was given such treatment, but the other blades had some other edging. Scratching it off and inspecting it closely, he saw the grey glow of silver in them. Cleaning these too, he now beheld such a hunter’s pike that had been made for masters. For the silver along the side blades was meant for hunting the old Werewolves of Dale. The weapon was ancient, and had a kind of colored mallorn not seen in the woods now. The smith had made each blade independently with careful attention, choosing only the best to tip the pike and using the rest as ornament. However the weapon had no engraving in text, and thus was nameless. Such a powerful tool could not be without name, and so Kinith set upon making one. Deciding it was best to name it after a hunt. He took it with him to the Trollshaws for game of elk and hunt of orc. His first kill opened his eyes to the power of the pike. Not only was it a powerful weapon, but it also set his enemies ablaze, causing animals to be roasted on the spot and freshly edible. Additionally, both game and orc seemed to have more loot to be had, more than he had gotten before on his luckiest days. He had heard rumor before of weapons enchanted with the power of luck, to loot more from enemies, however he had dismissed it as nothing more than wanting say. Presented with this hunter’s godsend, there was no doubt of it’s power to fuel civilization. A single master hunter armed with this could alone supply food the same would be made by a dozen simple men, and without need of furnace or fuel. At the end of his most prosperous hunt Kinith had ever had, he set about naming the pike. Not being such a creative man, and never having a talent for the written word nor the spoken, he named it in honor of the beast that protected it. For the man who tamed it must have been a true master, the greatest of time perhaps even. The creature’s pride was not crushed however by this hunter, but rather stroked to companionship. And so in honor of both the master of old and his most dangerous foe yet, he named his own hunter’s pike, Devil’s Pride. Wilvenjorn One day Kinith traveled to the old Hunting Guild Hall he helped construct and defend, to see if any still were there after all that time. In the back of the hall he found an oversized greatsword wedged into the floorboards. Pulling it out, he realized immediately by the weight and engraving, as well as the unmistakable shine of silver on the blade. It was Wilvenjorn, the sword of House Histine, a dead clan of beast hunters before Kinith’s time. Seeming to be almost fate that it fell into the hands of another monster slayer, Kinith bears it in their memory and honor. A Wanderer’s Beginning Life had become tedious for Kinith, and spending his nights in an unfurnished home in his village or storage cellar in Dale did not fit what he thought was his deserved due. So, he set off to make a personal manor in Lothlorien, a safe place he did not have to worry about protecting against threats. With the help of a Dalish friend Svana, whom he had met even before Reya and Elfrod, he constructed a manor to live in comfortably, far surpassing his wildest dreams with her help. Soon after she also made a house nearby at the base of a tree, leading up the trunk and into the canopy. Elfrod was happy with his Inn as it were, but Reya and Ace also began making homes, yet it was not to be. In another world they might have formed their own township apart from Dale, however not this world. Reya began losing her spark of life, becoming a slave to her alcohol and it’s production. She had no time for her townsmen or ever her suitor, Ace. With Reya otherwise occupied, he returned to Harad to claim his throne, and did so soon after. Now Kinith couldn't see any way a split would be feasible, as the three couldn’t survive alone. But also with many of his friends gone, he grew distant from Dale itself. With several of his friends gone or otherwise occupied, Kinith reexamined his life. He had turned from a proud monster hunter to a complacent farmer and townlord. Such a life was not for him and if it kept up, he might lose his honor as a hunter. And so drastic measures had to be taken to return to his old life. He declared himself no longer a Dalish citizen, revoking his protection under the crown. However for his years of service he was allowed to keep his houses and farm. Now on his own, he set off on an exploration of the now rising nation of Rhun, stopping at the capital and a harbor town, both with amazingly unique architecture unlike any he had seen. Their culture and way of life was intriguing, however as a man of the east he was looked at strangely, and almost alienated from the start. He then took some time apart from everyone to think about where he wanted to be really, and came to a simple conclusion. BarrowMan Deciding to start at the beginning, Kinith returned to the Barrow Downs, those foggy, dead lands where he first began his life as a Monster Hunter. Before it was a task for him to slay only two of the wraiths, but with his new skills and honed blades they fell like saplings to an axe. Making a home of rotten, dark wood and primitive metal bars, he tried to return to the daily struggle of surviving. Grey daylight was spent gathering materials and occasionally fishing in the nearby river, as well as sleeping when he could in preparation for what was to come. Night was spent on the hunt. He began a journey to map out the entire Barrow Downs, and in doing so found dozens of barrows to loot, and hundreds of wraiths to slay. He took many bags with him along the way for room to keep trophies ass proof of his kills. Life in the Barrows was a different kind of simple than the life he had before. In that the only thing that mattered at the end was himself surviving. The game there had been untouched for centuries and was plentifull. Elderberries sprouted like weeds and he made a border around his house of them, occasionally harvesting them for drink. His armor and weapons were supplied from his own kills, by smelting down the ancient gear he found to iron, he could use it in his Ranger armor, but found ancient Arnorian armor claimed from the crypts to be more efficient, albeit heavier. Barrow Lord’s Lament One night while exploring he found a peculiar barrow. Unlike the others it seemed to slope downwards and into the ground. Outside were small statues worn by the ages, and what might have been writing of old above the entrance. Inside, there was no chest but rather a stairwell that led down. Fashioning a torch, Kinith set down the stairs slowly, wary of traps or dangers. After walking for several minutes he found himself in an incredibly large room of crumbling brick, wide as a city square and twice as long, his torch barely illuminating the walls. Four supporting columns rested off the corners of the room, but one had fallen over and the roof there had begun to cave in. All across the wall were vertical coffins, reminding him of the Sarcophaguses said to rest in the pyramids of Far Harad. At the very end of the room rested a large altar raised above the floor, with channels that at one point might have held water, bordering the stairs. Walking up the steps of the altar, the call of the Barrows, as he called the noises and wails often heard across the plains, seemed to call to him. Louder and louder with every step, till a constant moan echoed the walls of the chamber. At the top of the altar lay a coffin with ornate styling and stonework, gemstone eyes and a gold lined body. It seemed to be of a man, a king of old adorned with crown. Unafraid of the Barrows or it’s secrets, Kinith pushed and heaved off the coffin cover, to the chorus of moans in protest. In it lay the a skeleton adorned in gold and mithril trimmed Arnorian armor, a level of craftsmanship he had not seen before, it took his composure a second to return. Both arms folded to the chest, gripping a large black blade that seemed to glow with an ominous energy. Looking around the cave, Kinith noticed that several of the coffin lids seemed to be ajar. Only slightly but enough to notice. There was no fear but rather apprehension for the sake of care, as he pulled the sword from the coffin. The moment he did, there was an ear piercing shrill as from the walls and coffins came wraiths. In moments hundreds of them had filled the room, covering the floor in a mass of cloaks. However as they settled on the floor, the noises grew faint till the only sound was Kinith’s beating heart, bouncing around in his head. However as he looked onto the crowd, they made no motion to approach the altar, but rather stood at it’s base. From below the adorned coffin came a wraith dressed in the same kind of majestic armor as the king was buried with. He floated inches off the ground and without boots, his grieves simply ended with a trail of green mist at the end. The helmet tilted up to inspect Kinith, and when it saw him seemed to stay there and stare. Realizing that there was no way to fight off as many wraiths, and not knowing the power of the king ghost, Kinith took the only option he had. Holding the sword in one hand, he brought the tip to the ground and took a knee before the floating armor, a time old sign of respect. Looking up from his bow, he saw the armor bouncing up and down in imitation of a hard laugh, and behind him he saw the ocean of cloaks doing the same. The king did motion for him to lay down the sword, and when he did the ghost picked it up. He pointed to Kinith and then his gauntlet fell the the floor. Taking this to mean a challenge, Kinith pulled out his Devil’s Spike and also motioned upwards. The gauntlet seemed to float back up to the armor, and then atop the altar the fight began. The king made the first move, swinging wide and far to showcase his reach. Backpedaling, Kinith almost fell off the platform to the swirling mass of cloth below. Needing to make space, he used his pike to show his superiority at range and jabbed the king back to the other side. Now at opposite ends, Kinith charged forward intending to knock his opponent off, but the king stepped forward into it, using his blade and hilt to catch the pike’s shaft and keep it in place. Quickly from his pouch came a Mithril Dagger, which implanted itself just above the hip of the armor. Using his chance as his opponent reeled back from the pain, he pulled back his pike and ducked his head as he swung it over himself, slamming it into the helmet with such force a thud echoed the room, forcing the armor to crumple slightly and the suit to fall down as if on its knees. Digging the spike behind the shoulder, Kinith sidestepped behind the suit, and grabbed the other half of the shaft, locking the helmet between his arms and the staff. Using this, he began choking where the helmet should fold into the chest, and there was a resistance keeping him from pulling back all the way. The suit wiggled in struggle, but not long after, fell in pieces to the floor. The helmet seemed to spin on its rim forever, the only sound in the deathly quiet chamber. Having slain the ghost king and claimed his sword, the wraiths of the chamber simply looked on him. Until one seemed to lower itself, in what appeared to be an imitation of taking a knee. The others around it did the same, until the audience itself was bowing before Kinith. Taking a moment to appreciate this honor, he bowed back. Now, the wraiths came charging. They flew straight at him, and instinctively Kinith raised his new sword in defence. However they did not attack him, but rather part him like a boulder in rapids. They flung themselves against the back wall of the chamber, causing rubble to fall. Turning to see what was happening, they seemed to be using their ghostly bodies to damage the brick, until by the time the last of them had finished, there was a hole in the stone leading to another set of stairs! The back wall behind the altar had hidden the second set of stairs, but now was revealed to lead down into a deeper part. Looking down, it stretched off farther than light could carry, and exhausted from his battle Kinith decided to save it for another day. Taking his leave from the cave, he met no resistance from the few wraiths that remained. When he left it had already become day and the light burned his eyes for a moment. On his way back to his house, it seemed that there were just a few less wails than before. When he returned he thought about a name for the sword, and in honor of the lord of the barrow and his sadness at his own loss, Kinith called it, Barrow Lord’s Lament. Current Status Kinith lives hidden in the Barrow Downs while he continues his quest to map them out. Rarely leaving, primarily out of necessity, be it to help those he knows or to trade his wares. However he is always brief and makes no mention of staying away for long. Amassing a trove of trophies, he spends his days devoted to the life of a Monster Hunter, seeking to strengthen himself through combat. However he did make a vow to protect those of Middle Earth, and left a way to find him engraved in the hidden room of his Lothlorien manor. Along with providing a riddle that must be solved simply to find him. If you wish to request his help and make him leave the Barrows for any cause great enough, you must first find, then convince him. The first step is to find a friend of his, for the manor is hidden in those massive golden woods. The riddle can be found without braking in, let nature lead your way. From there the journey is your own. Good luck, and may the wind be at your back.